At which point I noted that bread has no problem with me, my body just reacts to it rather vigorously with inflammation, as opposed to the gut pain most get.

Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
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Yeah, it was. It's been scribbled down and put in THE BOOK of recipes.

Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
My Latest Journal

Woke up with a hellacious earache. It's not one that makes me cry and scream from pain, but it is violent enough to get my TMJ in on the act. Took some Aleve, e-mailed into work, and passed back out. I'm awake again and I can't find my belladonna drops. Also really snotty. Geek told me that front they were predicting for this may be trying to push through today, because it's really fucking windy. Well, thst extreme a change in barometric pressure can do this to me, but usually it's barometric pressure combined with gunk in my ear (impacted earwax or infection.) I was try the eax remover loop later, if it doesn't hurt like hell.

Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
My Latest Journal

I desperately want bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns. Or chorizo con huevos. Unfortunately, we're out of potato like objects and no chorizo or peppers to be found at the house. Greens don't sound appetizing. Neither does bellhash. And I'm not leaving the house right now. Fine. Food won't commence until my body decides it wants something already in the house.

Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
My Latest Journal